The Dinner Date
by Nine Bright Shiners
Summary: Katniss tries to be romantic, but Haymitch just won't appreciate it. A Haymiss oneshot. AU.


_A/N: Thanks as always to premadoragirl for her helpful notes which made this story funnier & thank you to Iha1 for providing the spark of inspiration which led to this oneshot._

 _I imagine this story taking place in post-Rebellion Panem, a few years after the main events of_ Mockingjay, _perhaps even following on from my other Haymiss oneshot, 'The Pardon'. Katniss and Haymitch have left Twelve and are living together for the first time._

* * *

' _Back home everything is so much simpler. A woman usually rents a white dress that's been worn hundreds of times. The man wears something clean that's not mining clothes. […] And we have our own little ceremony, where they make their first fire, toast a bit of bread, and share it. Maybe it's old-fashioned, but no one really feels married in District 12 until after the toasting._ _'_ ―Catching Fire

 **The Dinner Date**

It had been a long day at work and all he wanted was to collapse on the sofa and kick off his shoes, cradling Katniss in one arm and a bottle of wine in the other. Three weeks ago, he'd finally been told he was his own boss – words he'd been waiting to hear since the day he'd started work. But they hadn't told him he'd now be answering to each of the twelve chair members on a one-to-one basis. By the time he'd packed the last of them off, it had taken the final dregs of his willpower to go straight home rather than duck into a bar on his way across town.

Still, as he climbed the stairs to the apartment he shared with Katniss, he was glad he'd chosen to come home. He was smiling as he fitted his key into the lock and turned it, thinking how good it would be to flop onto the sofa next to her and pull her into his arms. Usually she struggled half-heartedly, protesting that _some_ people _liked_ watching the news, but then she'd turn and kiss him and it wouldn't be long before it felt like she'd melted in his arms. How quickly the last four months had gone by.

He opened the door – and froze.

The room was half in darkness, the only light provided by a selection of candles placed strategically on the small dining table, the kitchen countertops and the end table next to the sofa. The whole apartment looked suspiciously tidy. On both tables was a single vase, each holding a bunch of wildflowers. A sultry female voice crooned from the radio.

Katniss was hovering by the kitchen counter, looking sheepish. He noticed she was wringing her hands; Katniss _never_ wrung her hands. She took a step forward, then hesitated. 'Did I go too far?'

He quirked an eyebrow, his lips pressing together. 'You tell me, sweetheart. Expecting someone special? I can go.'

Wrong answer. 'Very funny. I should have known you'd be like this.' She ran a hand through her hair, agitated. 'Effie came by this afternoon – but I don't want you blaming her. It was all my idea.'

He paused in the act of pulling off his shoes. 'You sure about that, sweetheart? She must have suggested the tidy-up, at the very least.' He should stop; he knew, but he was too annoyed. All he'd wanted was a simple evening on the sofa and now that too was going to be taken from him. He pretended to search for something, craning his neck to examine the spotless apartment, and finding it missing. 'Where'd you put all your crap, under the bed?'

She ground her teeth, but did an admirable job of not rising to the insult. With a jab of her finger she silenced the radio. 'She kept going on and on about how Valentine's Day was coming up next month,and I thought I should do something romantic for you. Not for Valentine's Day. Tonight.' She was mumbling, but managed to look straight at him, almost accusatory. 'To show I care.'

He looked around again, feeling like a stranger in his own home. 'Couldn't have warned me first?'

Her jaw tight, she marched over to the table and blew harshly, snuffing out the candles. She stacked the two plates together and reached for the cutlery.

He backpedalled quickly. 'Kat… I know you care. Of course I know.'

She paused, but didn't quite set down the knife she was holding.

'But this little display ... it gets me worried. If you want something, just tell me, and I'll do it.'

Her mouth twisted with sourness. 'Oh, so it's all about you. Figures. Maybe I wanted this for _me,_ to see what it's like. God knows _you'd_ never suggest it.'

He looked away and shrugged, determined not to show how that stung. He thought of the things he'd done for her, gestures of affection he'd never given anyone else. Did they not count?

His voice had a bite in it that he couldn't suppress. 'Since when were you into hearts and flowers?' He dropped his jacket over the back of the sofa. 'Always figured you were allergic to them.'

'I just wanted to be romantic. Is that so bad? We have to be the most unromantic couple we know – do you realise that?'

'And that was never a problem – until now.' As he talked he sidled to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. He could do with a drink. So could she. 'Want some?'

Her look was all the answer he needed.

Chastised, he replaced the bottle and retreated a few steps. 'What in Snow's name has gotten into you?' He paused, genuinely confused. In the years he'd known her she'd never been like this before.

She stared back at him, about to speak – then turned away, shoving the plates into a cupboard. 'Why can't you take anything seriously? It's like you're incapable of it. I put so much effort into all this and you –' She slammed the cupboard shut. 'Never mind. I don't know why I bother.'

He waited as she jammed the cutlery into a drawer. While her back was turned he surveyed the scene again. It really wasn't his style, but the smell of cooking meat and vegetables wafting from the oven was making his mouth water – and he couldn't deny that Katniss was looking even more attractive than usual in a pretty green dress, her hair up in a chignon, a few strands trailing down her neck. He swallowed.

She banged the drawer shut and turned back to him, frowning, her fingers gripping the countertop. 'I want to act – to _feel_ like a normal couple. A real couple.'

He looked at her. 'We _are_ a real couple.' When she hesitated he crossed the room and pulled her to him.

She sighed into his shoulder. 'Of course we are; it's just…'

He nuzzled her neck, smiling as her words trailed off. Then he grunted as she pushed him away roughly.

'Kissing me will not make this all right,' she warned.

He saw that she meant it. 'All right,' he sighed. He waved a hand in surrender, giving in to the inevitable. 'I guess we had to try it sometime. Might as well be now. We'll test this out, see how it goes.' _Get it over with,_ he added in his head, but managed to keep his expression neutral, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

There was the sound of glass smashing; he looked up. One of the vases lay in pieces on the floor. A second later the bedroom door slammed shut. He realised he hadn't said that last bit in his head after all.

With a groan he shoved the chair back and started towards the bedroom – when the fire alarm went off. Too late, he became aware of a strong smell of burning now issuing from the oven.

Cursing savagely, he turned off the oven, pulled the hatch down, then went around the kitchen and living room, flinging the windows open. He beat out the smoke with a tea towel, trying in vain to get the fire alarm to turn off. Just as he was climbing onto a chair, balancing unsteadily – why had they picked an apartment with such high ceilings? – it went silent.

He climbed back down to the floor, looking around at the burnt food, the curtains flapping in the chilly evening breeze, the partly-burned candles, the smashed vase, and groaned. He didn't know why he'd acted the way he had, said the things he'd said. He'd gone too far, and he had no idea how to get things back to how they'd been before.

…

Twenty minutes later, the bedroom door opened and Katniss came into the living area. He looked up; she had paused, looking around the room, taking in the cleared table, the fresh bin liner, the absence of vase fragments on the floor. Her expression lightened a touch, though she was still far from placated. He turned back to the fire he was tending, and felt her attention shift to him, to the newly-stoked fire, the toasting forks and bits of bread nearby.

'Haymitch, if you really think that _toast_ is going to solve anything – _oh_ …'

He turned to look at her. She had a hand to her mouth.

'Haymitch … is this what I think it is?'

He looked away, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. 'If you want it to be,' he managed.

She slid onto the floor next to him, her hand gripping his. _'Of course_ I do.'

Suddenly his eyes felt hot. Pushing the feeling away, he passed her a toasting fork, then picked one up himself. 'I'm sorry,' he said, somewhat gruffly. 'For how I acted before. I was an idiot.'

She opened her mouth to speak but he interrupted her. 'The truth is I'm not used to people doing nice things for me – let alone _romance_. I … I need to get better at handling these things. And… I want to do nice things for you, too.' He sighed. 'It's just… I know how I feel about you. And no romantic dinner can change that. Though -' he amended hastily, '- I can see why you might want one, every once in a while.' To his relief, she smiled.

'I guess what I'm trying to say…' he trailed off, embarrassed. 'I guess what I'm trying to say is, to me, we _are_ a real couple. Most people acknowledge that now, even if they were a bit startled when we first got together.'

She laughed, her hand squeezing his.

'But it's not just that. To me, we're the realest couple there is. And we don't need flowers and candles to be romantic. That's their way but it's not _our_ way. Not when I know exactly which spot makes you ticklish…' He lightly touched the spot under her lowest rib on the right side. 'Not when I know about the freckles on your shoulder-blades…' His hand skimmed up her back to rest on the spot where her shoulder jutted out. ' _That's_ what's romantic.'

She ducked her head for a moment, blinking quickly. 'I know that, Haymitch. I feel the same way.'

'Although,' he added seriously, 'I really do get why you went with candlelight. It must work wonders for my complexion.'

She swatted him. 'Don't be silly, you're not that old yet.'

' _Yet,_ she says… Where did you get the vases from? Were they in the back of a cupboard somewhere?'

'I bought them, if you really want to know. But you'd better stop while you're ahead. Are you giving me that bread or not?'

Smiling, he passed her a piece of bread. She speared it onto her fork, and waited for him to do the same. Then, together, they held their pieces of bread over the fire and watched them turn brown.

'Arguing over a romantic dinner. Only us.'

'Maybe you guessed this already, but I didn't actually cook it. Effie ordered it from this place where they prepare all the ingredients and you just warm it up – it was lucky you were late home or you would have seen them delivering it.'

He resisted the urge to say he'd known that all along – but she saw what he was thinking and her eyebrows rose reprovingly.

'Here's something you _didn't_ guess.' There was a glint in her eye. 'While you had your back to me I turned up the oven.'

He blinked at her, not quite believing it. 'So you're the reason I've spent the last twenty minutes trying to chase smoke out of this apartment.'

She tipped her head back, trying not to laugh.

He shook his head, smiling. 'Guess I deserved it.'

Then they were both quiet for a while, sitting close together, surrounded by the fire's warmth and the smell of toasting bread.

'I'm glad it burned,' she said quietly. 'This is more us. We only need to be us.'

He gripped her hand tightly. He couldn't agree more.

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 _I hope you enjoyed that! Please leave a review, I'd love to know what you thought._

 _Please do check out my_ Run Away With Me _oneshot and my longer ongoing Haymiss story,_ The Pardon.

 _I've also made several Haymiss music videos, which can be found on my YouTube account,_ Vogue Elf. _I particularly recommend 'Oh Miss Believer' and 'Nightcall'. You might like to know that I also have several new Katniss/Haymitch videos planned which I'm very excited about making! A couple of them will be crossover vids using films other than_ The Hunger Games _– I'm just waiting for the films to arrive before I can really get creative :D_


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